


The Conduit

by spiderlilies



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Come Sharing, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Miranda in charge, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-OT3, a bit of roleplaying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:26:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7870174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiderlilies/pseuds/spiderlilies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miranda returns to her London home the morning after her first tryst with James, and shares with Thomas the lurid details of the encounter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Conduit

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [shirogiku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shirogiku/pseuds/shirogiku) in the [pirate_prompts_2016](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/pirate_prompts_2016) collection. 



> Ah, Shiro, I'm like five months late for this. Forgive me~! I had such a fun time with the prompt, though, and I hope you don't mind that it veered straight into smut.
> 
> **Prompt:** Thomas/Miranda/(James McGraw), Thomas wanting to know EVERYTHING about Miranda's times with James, but more importantly, how do I bed him, Miranda? help??? pro tips???
> 
> Can be just the conversation, or can be also the results:)

Although there were a dozen or more rumors of affairs at socials and among gossiping men and women, whose lives were so dull that they had nothing better to do than stick their noses in other people's business, the stories surrounding Miranda had never been true. That is to say, they hadn't been. Not until now.

It was early morning, early enough that the street lamps had yet to be extinguished and the sun had only just peeked over the horizon, and Miranda was slipping back into the bedroom she shared with her husband. Quietly, she clicked the door shut behind her, slipped off her heeled shoes, and padded softly over to the bed.

Thomas was lying there, under one thin sheet, sounding like a train roaring by with his loud snores. Loud, obviously fake snores.

"Oh, my dear Thomas, how will I ever tell you that I have strayed?" Miranda woefully said to the sleeping form.

"In lurid details," Thomas replied, dropping his ruse, slipping the sheet off his head, and grinning happily enough that Miranda wondered if he too had such a fun night.

Miranda held out her hand and Thomas took it, allowing himself to be pulled from the bed and to standing. He was wearing only his shirt, exactly as James had been, which gave her the best of ideas.

"Only the most lurid for you, but words alone will not do, I fear," she said with a deep, exaggerated sigh. "To clear my conscious, I must divulge all that transpired, and much of my transgression with our Lieutenant was wordless."

Thomas caressed the back of her hand with his thumb, an act of compassion for her display, though she could feel the undercurrent of excitement already coursing through his fingers at her insinuation. "My dear, as I cannot bear to see you distraught, I bid you do with me what you will. I am at your mercy."

How she wanted to toss him back onto the bed and have her way, but the game had only just begun. So, with great difficulty, she restrained herself.

"James greeted me appearing just like this." She appraised him with an approving curve of her lip and unbuttoned the top of Thomas' nightshirt. "He was startled. He is always startled when I show up unannounced, as if he anticipates what I want but never knows if this night will be the night I voice my desires."

She removed her white gloves slowly, pulling the tips before sliding the fabric from her hand. Her wedding band glimmered. James had paused upon seeing the golden representation of the vows they were on course to desecrate, but Miranda knew it only increased the allure of their particular arrangement.

Then, she leaned in towards Thomas, who appropriately stepped back, knocking into the nightstand. However, she ignored him entirely, reached around him, and placed the gloves there behind him.

"He watched my every move, as if calculating my strategies for this battle and working out how to appropriately respond," she smiled invitingly, "but the poor Lieutenant was far outmatched. His eyes were already tracing the line of my neck and the meeting of my breasts."

Thomas let his gaze fall, running over the necklace she wore and down the silver pendant, which pointed like a compass between her bosom.

"Sweet James," she sighed, intentions bare on her honeyed tongue as she expanded her chest greatly with her inhale. "I could see he wanted me desperately, as I wanted him, but how he denied himself."

Miranda pulled at the fastenings at the back of her dress, loosing it from the haphazard tie James had done for her before she left his quarters. She let the sleeves fall off her shoulders, exposing flesh that had rarely been kissed by the sun. She tugged the silken dress down, over her breasts, over her hips, and let it pool at her feet.

"A _married_ woman. Mrs Thomas Hamilton. How could he allow himself to touch me?"

In only her thin shift, the points of her nipples and their darker tone drew Thomas's eye. How nervous he looked, like he didn't know how to properly bed a woman, like he had never seen her naked before.

"Touch them," she said, more like a command than an offering. "James hesitated."

True to the scene, Thomas reached one hand up to her chest, but let it hover a hair's width from her right breast.

"He nearly drew back."

Thomas made to pull away, but Miranda stepped forward pressing into his hand so that he could feel the softness of her flesh and the rising heat of her body. She brought her own hand to his and squeezed their fingers around her breast, drawing a short, high-pitched hum from her.

She met his eyes, already blown in lust. "I told him, ' _Thomas knows_.'" She delighted to see his eyes darken further at the knowledge that his name had been said to James in such a heady situation, that he had been used to spur James on. "' _Thomas wants us to enjoy each other. To be lost in each other_.'"

With a now trembling hand, Thomas kneaded his fingers into her breast, knowing she enjoyed the fondling, but his expression was waiting, wanting to know more.

"Your name, James repeated it," she said breathily, and pushed closer into Thomas until his hand was trapped between her soft bosom and his flat torso. "He repeated it as if you were in the room with us. Watching us."

" _God_ , I wanted to be," Thomas said, breaking character with a wavering voice and a heavy swallow.

She, too, had the same thought, but they had agreed prior that, for this to be a successful seduction, James would need to be eased into their fold. Others had been frightened off by their boldness, and James was much too important to lose due to haste.

Miranda leaned closer still. James had been her height, but for Thomas she lifted her head up to align their lips, but not yet to touch them together.

"He would have you kiss me," she said gently, and could feel Thomas wanting to surge forward despite her not narrating James' reaction. She let her teeth catch the plumpness of her bottom lip briefly. "He would have you _fuck_ me," she added without a hint of modesty.

Thomas' nail caught over her nipple, spiking pleasure down to her still sensitive cunt. As she had with James, she lifted her knee, pressing it against the nightstand and up flush with his stirring cock.

James had held back his groan, but Thomas had never been one to bite his tongue. Always outspoken and vocal in all things, his desirous, throaty sounds made her heart race with the urgency to get on with it, but she reeled in her composure.

"I gave him a dichotomous choice. If he turned his head away, I would cease, redress, and return home. We would commit no sins together. But, if he kissed me now, we would fuck long into the night shouting brazenly for God to watch our fall," she said blasphemously against his lips, knowing that no otherworldly being invoked enough devotion to turn a man from her bed. Her nose brushed his with light pressure. Once. Twice. "What do you suppose was the answer?" she asked, letting the heat of her gaze fall to Thomas' mouth.  

That was permission enough.

Thomas swallowed the distance between them, brought her lip between his teeth, and worried the flesh. James had been the last to kiss her only a quarter hour before. If she focused enough, she could feel him still. Could taste his demanding tongue. Could give Thomas the means to taste James as well.

Oh, but that was for later.

"James, when he lets go, he is feral. In him, the primal instinct of man is held back by the thin veneer of a proper gentleman. I unleashed him," she boasted at a near growl, before clashing their teeth and dragging the nightshirt up high enough for Thomas' cock to be exposed to the open air.  

Thomas was a gentle lover, but, as he drew upon the role of James, he matched her passionate insistence. His kiss grew in intensity, gentleness replaced with urgency. His nail again grazed her tender, reddened nipple, but it was a mere distraction as Thomas' other hand grasped under her raised thigh, and he dug his nails into her flesh, and hefted her leg up harder against his arousal. He whimpered high in his throat, wanting more from her, needing the friction she was not giving him. She had half a mind to tell him to ride her thigh like a pitiful, rutting animal, but that was not what she allowed James and she was well-versed in sticking to the script.

With a wicked smile, fit for a woman who felt no remorse for her adulterous affair, she shoved Thomas backwards to the bed, where his knees buckled as soon as they hit the mattress, allowing her to hoist up her shift, climb into his lap, and straddle his thighs. A slap rang out as her hand connected with one meaty thigh, a light warning rather than a harsh rebuke.

"Do not mistakenly believe that being unleashed meant that I had given up control," she scolded with a measured calm in contrast to Thomas' shallow, kiss-stolen breaths.

With one hand, she pushed her fingertips barely against the center of Thomas' chest. "Down," she commanded sharply. And Thomas complied, lowering himself onto his elbows and flat onto his back. This was the control she loved, that which sent her mind high on the rush of power she could wield over a willing, lust-addled man.

She moved up his body at a slow crawl and paused to hover over his thickening cock. The look he gave her was half-lidded and nearly pleading. His hands twitched against the sheets, and she knew he was itching to touch her, but was waiting obediently for her directions.

"How good you are for me," she said as she settled down against him, but only gave one roll of her hips along his length before lifting away, much to Thomas' chagrin. "James was good for me too. I asked for his fingers." She took Thomas' hand and trailed his fingers up her thigh, between her legs, and to her wet folds. "Dip them into me."

Miranda could not help but bite her lips against the moan that threatened to escape her as Thomas immediately pressed two fingers into her. Thomas did moan, his own knuckles brushing against his neglected cock as he worked in and out of her with measured strokes. It must have been torturous for him.

"James fucked me, like a— _ah_ —" A sharp, high-pitched whine slipped out of her at the memory of James entering her mixed with the present feeling of Thomas' thumb stroking just beside her clit—an underhanded move from her dear husband as he knew just how to touch her. She struggled to regain her thoughts and not to sink onto Thomas this instant. "When he came," she managed to say, "he came inside me."

The fingers in her stilled suddenly, and she knew Thomas had realized exactly what she hoped he would.

She circled her hand around his wrist and withdrew his glistening, come-covered fingers, which he fixated on with a look of near distress. A drop slid down over his palm and to his wrist.

"Would you like a taste of our James?" she asked and lifted his fingers up to his parted lips.

Thomas inhaled deeply first, trying to parse James' scent out from hers, but he did not immediately take them into his mouth, as if indecision held him back. "Does James know?" he asked, though surely he trusted her enough to know that she had permission for this act.

"Darling, I told him that I would share with you the most _intimate_ of details." She brought her tongue to his wrist, feeling his rapid pulse, and she followed the fluid trail back up to his palm, where she left a lingering kiss behind, savoring the taste. She hummed to prove how pleasurable the flavor would be if he partook in this indulgence. "I told him that I would return to you and have your tongue and your cock to cleanse me. It was James' decision to leave a trace of himself behind. ' _Give my regards to Thomas_ ,' he said before I left, but his words were certainly not flavored with courtesy. Taste," she urged again.

This time, assured of James' consent, Thomas enveloped his lips around his own fingers and, with fervor, his tongue slid between them as he sought out every crevice the slick could have gathered in. All the while, he maintained their heavy gaze and vibrated with such pleasure that Miranda felt herself leak onto Thomas' white shirt—whether James' come or her own wetness, there was hardly a way to know which filled her more now.

"One day," she promised, "you shall have a taste straight from the source. I will have him fill your eager mouth with his cock, and his taste, his smell will be all-encompassing." Thomas' eyes slipped shut, imagining. "We could make you as an opium addict for his come," she purred and pressed into the hollow of his cheeks with her fingers, imagining, too, how he would look with swollen lips stretched around James' cock. The image would be seared into her brain for many future recalls.

She was growing rather impatient herself now. "Would you like to know what James did for me next?"

So lost in the fantasy was Thomas, that he did not answer until she removed his fingers and repeated herself.  He managed a murmured, "Yes, please."

Miranda instructed him to a proper resting position in the center of the bed, where she quickly planted herself back atop him, sitting fully over his aching length and sending a shudder through the both of them, but she remained agonizingly unmoving.

“ _Miranda_ ,” he gasped as his cock twitched under her, leaving his shirt with another stain. He appeared half-mad with need, but his hands twisted the sheets and he continued to exercise beautiful restraint. She had not seen him so desperate so quickly in quite some time, but that was the wonder of James, he had ignited in them both a passion for his clever intellect and his baser instincts.

In a measure of mercy, or perhaps further torture, she brought her middle finger to where the flushed head of Thomas’ cock jutted out from under her and ran lazy circles around the slit. At the touch, his thighs shook and two stuttered thrusts escaped him before he stilled himself with a string of apologies. She shushed him sweetly and lifted another pearled drop from his cock, which she rubbed over her clit for a bit of her own relief.

Thomas watched on with a groan, his usual patience abandoning him. “ _Please_ , what did James do next?”

She almost wished to tease further, if only to draw out another plea, but her center ached with want and what was coming next was too satisfying to delay. Like a minx, she slipped her hands under Thomas’ shirt, slid them over his soft belly, and hiked the fabric up higher and higher. "Such rigorous workouts they must do in the Navy. James had such definition in his form, from stomach, to chest, to shoulders."

Thomas muddled words about cutting back on cream cakes, which nearly drew a chuckle from her, but she assured him that she would not have him skimping on delights. She kissed the slight pudge of his belly, then, she stripped him of his shirt, rendering him naked, and discarded the needless cloth to the floor. With no further preamble, she made a sinuous, sultry advance up his torso, and did not stop until she was gripping the top of the headboard and her thighs were cradling Thomas’ head.

“ _Oh, God,_ ” was his choked response and his eyes focused with singular intent onto her cunt. Under her shift, he found the pert curve of her ass and, being too roused to wait for her, he pulled her down to his mouth.

The first hungry lap of his tongue turned her half-formed words into a keen and sent shivers up her spine. She tossed back her head as his every exhale passed over her cunt, heating her further, and she raked one hand through his short locks to tug him as close as possible. Thomas fucked his tongue into her with familiar precision, but, in addition to seeking her pleasure, he was seeking more of James.

Not to speak poorly of James’ performance, but this was going to be a much shorter affair with Thomas at the helm.

The deeper Thomas went, the more curses he drew from her, and the slick, needy sounds from him spurred her on until she was rocking against his face with abandon. There were no pauses in his actions, only sudden transitions from tongue-fucking, to laving, to sucking, and back again.

“James would love your tongue in him,” she said between a moan. “ _Fuck_ , he might beg for it. On all fours, he would spread himself for you, expose himself to you, beg for _you_.”

Thomas faltered, giving her false thoughts that she might still have the control here, but then he parted her cheeks, which glistened with a fine sheen of sweat, and pressed a thumb against her entrance in time with a direct swirl of the tip of his tongue against her clit.

A ragged gasp left her lips, she curled forward, and squeezed her shaking legs around Thomas as the orgasm coursed through her almost unexpectedly. Trusting Thomas to manage her weight, she stopped bothering to hold herself up as he continued with gentler, more predictable licks that eased her through her bliss.

When she was left too sensitive for that to be pleasurable, she finally slipped down until she was settled on his chest, which was heaving almost as much as hers. It was his shameless, debauched face that she delighted in the most, though.

“My, you are a mess,” she laughed, wholly pleased with herself, and bent down to kiss around his wet mouth.

The laugh he gave in return was thin and unsteady, one of her favorites. Thomas’ hand tangled in her hair and drew a surprised sound from her as he brought them to a proper open-mouthed kiss. Usually, he would have complained about it being too messy for his tastes, but, clearly, he was enthusiastic this morning and was enticing her with the musky kiss in hopes of his more pressing needs being met sooner. As far as bribes went, it was an exemplary one.

Miranda pulled away and, with one finger under his chin, she tipped his head back and exposed his clean-shaven, unmarred flesh. There, where there was no chance of hiding it even with a cravat, she sucked a possessive mark, which would certainly cause a great deal of hushed curiosity at their salon later today. James would see it, and he would be the only one to know with great detail how she and Thomas had fucked. He might even begin imagining it right there in their drawing room.

“You have been the death of many men, I am sure,” Thomas said with a groan as she tumbled off him and relaxed into the linens. He followed her over, cock still thick and heavy, and took his place between her inviting, spread legs. “It would terrifyingly easy to convince James that you are the enchanting seductress of the sea sung about in some chanty.”

Miranda smiled at the compliment. “If I were to expend my lovers so quickly, how would I ever remain satisfied?” She splayed her hands over his shoulder blades and forced his body closer. “Now, James did not waste time being lyrical.” She craned her neck up to graze her lips against his ear and, at a whisper, she demanded, “Fuck me already.”

All at once, he had her shift pushed up over her breasts, one hand finally making direct contact with his favorite asset of hers, his other hand guiding himself into her smoldering center. Curses and victory cries spilled from her as he pushed in with one smooth motion until he was sheathed. She reveled in his girth being greater than James’, allowing her to still feel the stretch required to accommodate him.

This, she could do this all day.

Thomas’ mouth latched around her breast and his hips snapped back before slamming forward again. His arm slid under her, gripping her waist and dragging her down as he thrust up. Encouragements of _more_ and _harder_ drove Thomas to a rarely achieved intensity, which nearly matched James’ rawness. She begged for teeth marks to mar her as her nails left scarlet trails of lust down Thomas’ back. The marks would last until James was fucking Thomas from behind and he would see them and he would remember that she left those very same marks on him.

“ _Yes,”_ she cried the only word that had yet to be fucked out of her head.

A few flicks of his thumb against her clit, and the height of pleasure seized her again, bowing her back off the bed and leaving her breath strangled. Thomas repeated her name with veneration that crescendoed as she went lax and curled her hand around his nape to caress him there, while his thrusts fell out of rhythm and became frantic. So close now.

“Thomas,” she said tenderly, and he opened his eyes slightly, seeming to hardly see her through the cloud of pleasure that drove him. “Shout _his_ name.”

A ragged, whimpered, “ _Miranda,”_ came first, as if he could hardly believe her request. But now another name crowded in his head along with hers.

“I want to hear his name when you come. I want to know how you say it. Say it,” she coaxed with another caress. “Say ‘ _James_.’”

Thomas’ eyes slipped shut again, his body trembled, and her heart pounded with anticipation for the name of their liaison. James, who had been the subject of a hundred conversations since the day Thomas first turned to see that handsome face, was in both of their heads and she could feel him here now as a warm, dare she imagine, loving, presence in their bed.

“ _James_ ,” Thomas called out on the heels of a final thrust, like James was there to absorb the sheer amount of need and want and love in that single word.

It sounded just as she had thought it would and her heart bloomed with it.

Thomas spent himself inside her, heavy pulses adding his come to the mix of the three of them. She, too, closed her eyes to exist with the sensations and emotions that filled her. She petted Thomas softly as his weight eased onto her and he relaxed into her bosom, panting hotly against her cooling skin. 

The feel of his contented smile, as he feathered thankful kisses on her sternum, brought her own smile out and she blinked down at her lovely husband, who was looking at her with a dazzling amount of hope.

“I am glad you had an enjoyable night with James,” Thomas said, being attentive towards her before he began to lose himself in future expectations.

The salon, the most immediate future, was already on her mind. She could hardly wait to see James again, and not only for the game of how many innuendos she could fit into those few hours, but to watch him and Thomas court each other with their political know-how and furtive glances, of which only she was privy. If she were as romantic as Thomas, she would say that there was a profound connection building between the two, a love rarely found, and she was blessed to be a conduit, a cornerstone, for such a wonderful and terrifying thing.

She tapped Thomas’ shoulder and he rolled over, leaving space for her to rest her head on his arm and slot into his side.

“Do you believe he will share our bed? Truly?” he asked, the prospect tugging his smile even wider.

“I do.”

Thomas hummed, pleased with the surety of her answer, and kissed into her hair. “At times, I yearn terribly for him. Have you noticed that half-smile he gives when I impress him?”

“Not half as often as I have noticed the abject horror there when your ideas are preposterous.”

Thomas, not bothered at all by that, continued on happily, “I could kiss him for every expression he makes.”

“That would be a great deal of kissing.”

“I know, it’s unbearable.” He laughed, then settled with a thoughtful furrow of his brow. “Should I be more overt? That gentleman veneer makes it rather hard to gauge what he would deem appropriate.”

“You could hardly be more overt, dear.” She patted his cheek and closed her eyes, hoping she had at least an hour to sleep, since sleep had certainly not happened during the nighttime hours. She doubted Thomas had slept much either, excitement for her return likely keeping him up.

“Miranda?” She hummed in answer. “Do you think we will be good for him?”

Of that, she was even more certain. “We will be so good that he will never let us go.”


End file.
